Break her Heart, I'll Break your Legs
by Face of Poe
Summary: A missing series of scenes from the end of Legacy of the Force novel 'Invincible,' in which Jaina and Boba Fett come to terms with their brief alliance and tentative... friendship?  moved from NJO category


**Disclaimer: **Sadly, nothing belongs to me.

**Setting: **End of _Invincible_, missing scene/s after Jaina is recovered from the _Anakin Solo_.

**Relatively Canon**: semi non-compatible with the last chapter of _Invincible_, but it's not a huge stretch, just a bit of location adjustment…

**Rating: **K+

**Break her Heart, I'll Break your Legs**

His holocomm beeped. It was his private frequency, the one that only a select few, like Beviin and Sintas- and _Mirta_- had been allowed to know. Frowning, he depressed the button to accept the incoming communication and frowned harder, seeing a well-dressed, stoic young man with an unreadable face staring back at him.

"How did you get this frequency?" His voice was grim as he contemplated the possibilities of who this might be and what he might want.

"I apologize for intruding, Mr. Fett," the man spoke grimly. "However, I have two pieces of important information, if you'll give me a minute of your time."

Fett contemplated. "I'll spare you enough time to learn who you are and how you gained access to this channel, and _then_ I'll decide whether you're worth my time to hunt down and kill." A little harsh, perhaps, but he wasn't in the mood to be civil these days.

"Of course," the man said brusquely, apparently unfazed by the threat. "I was given the access codes for your private channel by your granddaughter, Mirta Gev, who was recovered from Galactic Alliance custody a few hours ago."

Now he certainly had Fett's attention. He'd received word that a huge engagement was taking place in the Mists, but given the gravitic nature and the ice fields, little word on the outcome had yet emerged. "Mirta is… alive?" he did his best to keep his voice free of emotion.

The man nodded and, sensing that the armored Mandalorian would not cut him off, continued with a bit more detail. "Yes, sir," he returned. "Injured, but recovering aboard the queen mother's Battle Dragon which is currently navigating its way out of the Transitory Mists. She cordially invites you to rendez-vous with the ship as it enters the Hapes system, or, if you'll consent to Mirta receiving treatment in the royal medical wing, to be a guest of the palace for the duration of her recovery."

Interesting. Being surrounded by Hapans in space, aboard their own craft, was unsettling enough; staying on the surface… he'd have to consider. Granted, Mirta likely stood the chance to receive much better care in the Hapes Cluster than anywhere else in the galaxy (save Coruscant, perhaps), and certainly than on Mandalore.

"Your other message?"

"A warning; if you are not yet aware, the remnant of the Moff council commissioned and released a nanovirus into Mandalore's atmosphere targeting you and your granddaughter and any other living relatives you may have."

Very interesting. "What of the clones and their descendants?"

The man blinked once. "I'm sorry sir; I don't know." Helpful; he'd have to wait to hear from Beviin then.

"Is there anything else?"

"No, sir; should I alert Hapes command that you'll be en route?"

He was already calculating the jump. "I'll enter the system in six standard hours," Fett said by way of reply. Suddenly, Fett's brain, muddled by the news of his granddaughter's survival and his struggle to comprehend the emotion that elicited in him, caught up. Mirta, GA custody, the Hapes system…

"Did she survive?" he asked suddenly.

"I- sorry?"

"Jaina."

A shadow crossed the other's face. "She did- her mission was successful."

So he understood Fett's stake. "And you are?"

The man opened his mouth once, his expression faltered, and then almost ruefully, he said, "Jagged Fel; Head of State of the Galactic Empire."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

He came out of hyperspace just behind the Battle Dragon; security immediately recognized his ship and cleared his landing in the most secure hangar the royal palace had to offer. Words were not spoken as two armed female guards escorted him to the medical wing, where he arrived just in time to see a repulsor-lift gurney being brought in from a nearby emergency hangar.

Mirta was nearly unrecognizable. Her face was pale and bruised, and gaunter than he'd ever seen it. She was asleep- or unconscious- for which he was momentarily grateful, albeit mildly concerned. It was not immediately evident what was wrong with her.

He was not addressed as the medical team, professional and intent on their purpose, hurried past him and through the door to the medical wing. Fett hesitated, unsure if his presence was allowed in the care unit. His worries were soon addressed.

"I need a bacta tank prepped immediately," he heard a gruff, female voice order. "The second shuttle has just landed, patient will be arriving in moments." Fett turned and saw a grim, one-armed young woman in a strange array of battle attire that looked more Dathomiri than Hapan… and flanked by six body guards. The queen mother then.

"Fett," she called his name in mild surprise. "Your granddaughter has just been taken inside, if you wish to see her."

He spoke haltingly. "Thank you… for your hospitality for Mirta… your highness…"

She waved off the formality and looked anxiously around as another gurney was rushed down the corridor. "How is she?" she called.

"She won't go in a healing trance and she still won't relax," a distraught- and familiar voice- returned down the corridor, coming closer. Fett turned to watch with a little more interest, and his eyebrows shot up.

Leia Organa Solo was rushing alongside the approaching gurney, and Fett knew who would be on it. He felt a strange, indescribable sentiment as he saw the small, dark-haired young woman, lying on her side with her visible arm splinted. She was writhing and groaning, seemingly oblivious to her mother's touch and, as the gurney turned to enter the medical ward, he saw that the back of her jumpsuit had been mostly cut away, revealing large burn welts which were covered in bacta patches.

He had asked the man- Fel- if Jaina had survived, not if she'd been injured. Perhaps Fel hadn't even known.

Fett followed slowly behind the queen mother's guards, feeling like a part of a funeral procession more than anything else.

He found Mirta easily, and she was coming around. "Ba'buir?" she groaned tiredly, blinking up at him. "How did you…?" she looked around, suddenly registering that she wasn't where she expected to be, perhaps. "Where are we?"

"Royal palace medical ward, Hapes," a medical droid answered while he drew a quick vial of blood which Mirta barely seemed to notice.

"What's wrong with her?" Fett directed his question at the droid, sensing Mirta was too confused to be able to relay much.

"Damage to the spinal column," the droid stated matter-of-factly. "A treatment regimen was already started and the patient has begun to experience increased sensation in the left side of her body. After another three or four days of treatment, full feeling should return, though a few weeks of physical therapy will be recommended."

Paralyzed; no wonder the Jedi had left her on Nickel One, taking her for dead.

"Don't… don't blame Jaina," Mirta said softly, reading Fett's feelings somehow. "If she'd stopped to get me, she'd have died there. And she- she came for me," her eyes darkened a little, "before she killed him. She told them where to find me."

As if on cue, he could hear a cry and a struggle, and a crash sounded from across the ward. He peered around the privacy curtain and saw a guard step half-through the curtain blocking off the other bed before reemerging with a curt word from the queen mother.

Apparently thinking the noise bothered him, the droid spoke again. "Your granddaughter will be relocated to a private room once we fully catalogue her condition."

"Fine," Fett grumbled, distinctly uncomfortable at the mild prodding of concern he felt for the _other_ girl in the ward, though he had already decided that it was acceptable to worry about his own granddaughter.

"She's in a bad way, ba'buir," Mirta murmured. "They had to sedate her for most of the jump here."

Mirta wasn't exactly helping.

"Ba'buir," she said softly, eyes slipping shut, "can you send a message to Ghes and to ba'buir… to Sintas?" she asked, words slurring slightly as some mild sedative took effect. "Just let them know that everything's… alright…" and she was out again. The request was unnecessary, however; he'd already reached Beviin on his approach to the planet to tell him two things: that Mirta was alive, and that Beviin himself would be the _Mand'alor_ for the foreseeable future. There was little use being the leader of a planet Fett was unable to ever return to, assuming the Fel kid's intelligence was right.

_Kid_. Head of State of the Remnant, eh? He had a mind to return to his ship and call Natasi Daala to find out just how drastically the galaxy had rearranged itself in the past several hours. Unsure of where to go in the meantime, as they carted his unconscious granddaughter away to a private room, he wandered into the main part of the medical wing, wondering just what it would take for someone to notice him if he started wandering the palace. His guess was not much.

"Fett?" a soft voice called out from the opposite curtain and he turned and saw the formerly Princess Leia watching him. He cursed his courtesy in not wearing his helmet- he missed the full-circle vision. "Jaina wants to talk to you."

He raised his brows curiously and studied Organa Solo's face. It was drawn and weary and her eyes were rimmed and red, but he saw a resoluteness that had echoed in her daughter when she had spent several weeks training on Mandalore. He nodded and approached the enclosure slowly.

"She's been sedated," the woman warned, "but she's fighting it, so she's a little…" she trailed off and shrugged helplessly and Fett remembered the frantic exchange in the hallway from mere minutes before, and the cry and crash from moments prior.

He stepped around the curtain at the same moment the queen mother rose from a chair next to the gurney. Tears streaked down the cheeks of the wild redhead's face and it occurred to Fett how out of place he was; under normal circumstances, no member of a Hapan court, much less the reigning queen, would allow a total stranger to see such a sign of weakness. A few words were whispered between the queen and Organa Solo, and then both stepped outside the partition, surprising Fett, who remembered the last time he'd seen Jaina under such circumstances; Han and Leia Solo hadn't let him out of their sight.

Approaching the bed, he cringed internally at the sight before him. Still situated on her side, a sheet had been loosely draped over her now-bare torso with her broken arm splinted and resting on top of it. A huge gash split her cheek, her eyes were closed, and her breathing was heavy and labored; he wondered what injuries were not visible. _At least her limbs were all intact_. "Shouldn't you be in a bacta tank?" he asked instead, voice gruff but quiet.

Jaina's eyes shot open. A corner of her mouth quirked before she grimaced with pain. "Not yet," she muttered. "Not until… the _Falcon_ gets here… and I talk to you…" He raised his eyebrows inquisitively, the only expression of emotion she found he ever really displayed around her. "Boba… it's Mirta… she's not dead. She's upstairs… injured, but I gave her… a blaster…"

He shook his head. "She's here in the medical ward," he corrected, frowning. "I've seen her; they said she'll be alright. She said you found her."

Jaina closed her eyes, and Fett wasn't sure if she was trying to concentrate and remember just where she was, or whether she had fallen asleep.

"I…" she mumbled and he re-focused on her, listening closely to her waning, soft voice. "I'm sorry I left her…"

"You'd be dead if you hadn't," Fett conceded gruffly.

That seemed to spark something in Jaina. "Wait," she slid her uninjured arm out from under her body and reached for him dazedly. "I promised to tell you… you can't go home, _Bob'ika." _

"You're practically delirious, so I'll let that one slide too, Jedi." But his tone was not in the slightest angry, and Jaina did not seem bothered. He straightened, hearing the door to the infirmary open and voices began floating towards them.

"There's a… a nanovirus…"

"I know."

Then Fett heard another familiar voice. _"What do you mean she won't go in the tank?"_

"Boba- if you- or _Mirta_- return to Mandalore…" with a sudden strength, she grasped his gloved hand as Han and Leia Solo stepped through the curtain and froze in confusion at Jaina's earnest behavior. "You'd both die, _Bob'ika_."

"_Solo_," he pried her fingers from him, "we know. We won't go back." He leaned in closer, folding her hand back against her body and speaking in low tones. "Jaina, your father is here now; do what you need to do and then _get in the kriffing bacta tank_, or heal yourself, or whatever it is you Jedi do." He stepped away, made to go past the Solos and then stopped. "My condolences," he said stiffly.

Leia inclined her head in thanks but said nothing. Han regarded him for a moment, and Fett wondered if he was going to try to start something now, of all times. Finally, he tilted his head and asked, "What does _Bob'ika_ mean?"

"Instant death to all but a select few."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Han and Leia Solo had just left, probably having remembered to eat after several days in which Fett had never seen them leave the medical wing; he suspected they took nutri-pills to get by. Deeming it to be a good as time as any to satisfy his damning curiosity about the girl, he slipped into the bacta chamber, justifying it by reassuring himself that Mirta kept asking about her anyway.

But he was not alone. He would have retreated, had the man not looked up at the unexpected movement- and Fett realized he recognized him.

"Fel," he nodded his head. Fel looked briefly confused, as was often the case when he appeared sans his helmet, but he recovered quickly.

He nodded a greeting. "How is Mirta?" he asked quietly, and Fett could see in his face and hear in his voice how weary this man was. He gestured Fett to sit in a chair opposite him.

"Recovering nicely. They expect her to be able to start walking again- with help- within another day or two."

"Good," the young man said distractedly. "She almost took my head off when I opened the door to the chamber where they kept her aboard the _Anakin Solo_."

Fett quirked a brow. "Search and recovery? Low work for a head of state, isn't it?"

Fel chuckled. "That particular position was not thrust upon me for another half hour or so. Anyway, it wouldn't have mattered; Jaina asked me to do it."

Ah- a suitor, or admirer perhaps? Or just a family friend? It seemed the Solos knew just about every leading politician and royalty in the galaxy.

"Thrust upon you? By whom, exactly?" Most sought positions of high power; this enigmatic young man seemed to rue it. Much as Fett rued taking up the role of _Mand'alor_ and only did so out of respect to Fenn Shysa.

"Luke Skywalker."

"That's the Jedi for you."

Fel chuckled. "Much as it pains me to admit, he made a good decision. I'm as neutral a choice as it gets, as far as the Empire goes; anything to take the power-wrangling out of the hands of the Moffs."

Fett thought he could grow to like this Fel kid.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

Sintas, Ghes, and Beviin arrived the next day, leaving Medrit as acting _Mand'alor_ in Beviin's absence. Two days after that, Jaina Solo came out of her eight-day, self-induced healing trance and was allowed out of the bacta tank at intervals, though she was not allowed to move about of her own volition yet. On one of her hour-long sojourns from the tank the first night, she asked to see Fett and Mirta. Mirta refused the offered hover-chair and walked stiffly on her own, still re-developing her muscles after the temporary paralysis.

Han was still at his daughter's bed when they arrived. Slowly, he stood, seeming grudging of letting these strangers and near-stranger- not to mention former enemy- near his recovering daughter. Jaina paid him no mind, smiling as the unexpected group entered her room.

"Beviin! Sintas!" her voice was hoarse but she smiled at the two who walked in behind Fett. Her grin broadened as Mirta walked in behind them without the use of any assistance. "Mirta," she said warmly. "You look good." Ghes stuck his head in behind Mirta and smiled at Jaina, who gave a small wave in return.

"So do you," Mirta said, taking in her friend's appearance.

Jaina laughed, a raspy, barking chuckle. "No need to lie to spare my feelings."

"It's hardly a lie compared to the last time she saw you," Fett muttered, earning himself a glare from Han. Jaina smiled, however, and shooed her dad away with an exasperated sigh.

"I understand I was a bit… er… _loopy_ when we spoke, Boba."

"Understatement of the century. Be proud though- you've survived calling me '_Bob'ika_' three times now."

Beviin barked with laughter. "That has to be a record."

Jaina blushed. "And how are you, Sintas?"

Sintas smiled at the girl who should have been so much younger than her, but for the nearly forty years of carbonite encasement. "Fully recovered, I think," she answered quietly, and Jaina noticed her twisting something around in her fingers; she looked closely and saw it was the blue heart-of-fire.

They spoke for a few minutes, mostly about Mirta's recovery, but Jaina was growing obviously exhausted- not to mention Mirta, whose pride refused to let her sit, but who was leaning increasingly heavily against Ghes. Beviin suggested they let the patients rest, sparing either of them the embarrassment of being singled out as the one who needed her beauty sleep.

"Probably a reasonable idea," Jaina said ruefully. "But can you stay a minute, Boba?"

He inclined his head in acquiescence and remained, standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for her to speak.

"No armor?" Jaina finally asked skeptically.

"Mirta requested we shuck it for the duration of the stay," he said grumpily. "Though the Hapans were… tolerable of it."

"Probably because of Tenel Ka," Jaina supplied, grinning. "She likes antagonizing the existing establishment." Fett just looked at her blankly. "The queen mother," she said pointedly.

"Ah. Perhaps."

She was quiet again for a minute or two, grimacing periodically as she adjusted her position on the bed. "Part of me wants to thank you," she finally said, eyes closed. "And apologize again for what Mirta's been through."

"But you've done both of those things," Fett narrowed his eyes. "So what is it?"

She shook her head. "You taught me focus, a single-minded crusade to accomplish my task… and it worked, I succeeded. And I've never been in more pain in my life; I killed my brother- my _twin_. There's a gaping hole where he used to be and it can never be filled again. You turned me into a deadly machine, and part of me hates you for that."

"And what does the other part feel?"

She blinked, and he saw a single tear fall down her cheek. "Nothing. I'm empty."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

The medical droids said there was little else they could do for Mirta; she'd been a patient for two weeks, and had been back on her feet for ten days. Her muscles, while perhaps not as strong as they had been prior to the injury, were functional, and as long as she continued to exercise her arms and legs, most of her full strength would be regained on her own over time.

The queen mother, who generally made at least one appearance in the ward a day, and often more than that, quickly offered the Mandalorians Hapan hospitality as long as they wanted it, suggesting that Mirta could take up one of the temporary apartments right off the medical wing as the rest of the visitors had done- save Fett, who preferred to stay in the security of _Slave I_ whenever possible.

When she was gone, Mirta looked uncertainly between Ghes, Fett and Sintas, and Fett sensed one of _those_ conversations coming on, one where emotions would run high between the two women and he'd simply shut down to escape his own. He wished Beviin were still around to help bail him out, but he had returned to his post as _Mand'alor_ after telling the others to contact him if they needed anything, that he'd commission some scientists to see if they couldn't find a counter to the nanovirus, and saying a fond farewell to Jaina.

"I never expected the queen of the entire Hapes cluster to be so… hospitable," Mirta said uncertainly. Sure, the queen mother had inquired after her several times during her stay, but that covered the extent of their interactions.

Fett huffed. "She's Jedi." Mirta looked surprised. "She left the _Order_ to rule when her mother was assassinated during the Vong war."

"Oh- I just thought she was on good terms with the Solos because they're… well…"

"Multi-generational rulers of the galaxy?" Fett sneered lightly. "In any case," he became suddenly somber, though only one as used to reading his face as Mirta and Sintas would have noticed the difference, "she is not hospitable for the Solos' sake, nor out of concern for your injuries," he told Mirta pointedly. "It's because of the nanovirus."

Mirta frowned. "Why do you say that?"

Fett reminded himself that Mirta had been bedridden and had not been paying attention to the efforts to rebuild the galaxy as he had. "The Moffs made another, to target the Hapan royal family; her five-year-old daughter was killed."

Mirta's hand rose to her mouth in horror, and she sat back, contemplative. Ghes grabbed her hand and held it comfortingly, and Fett decided he was alright.

"That does bring up the point," Sintas said hesitantly, as though aware that they were all thinking it but no one wanted to say it, "of the virus. Mirta, Bo… unless Beviin finds someone who can kill the virus or make you immune, neither of you can set foot on Mandalore again. Where will you go?"

Fett sighed. He knew this conversation was coming.

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

"You know," a voice sounded right behind him and he again cursed having no helmet, "for having rancor-drool in your veins, you aren't half-bad."

The person in question maneuvered around the table and sat opposite Fett, moving gingerly but smoothly. "You're up," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Can't get anything by you," she grinned. He noticed the faint remnants of scarring on her cheek, and her eyes were more sunken than usual, but otherwise… she looked almost normal again.

"What have I done to merit your approval?"

She shrugged. "A lot. Most recently though, Mirta tells me you're going to go to Kiffu to help Sintas try to track down any remaining relatives she may have."

He looked at her, expression hard; she didn't seem to care. "A week ago, you hated me," he finally pointed out.

"_Part_ of me," she emphasized. "And that part will shrink over time. But you're _Mando_- you don't actually care about that, do you?"

Strangely- he thought he did. Slightly. "Of course not." He thought about the bits of pieces of stories he had heard about the final fight aboard the _Anakin Solo_, and something didn't add up quite right. "I thought I trained you to be _Mando_ too," he said slowly. "But you don't make a very good one, do you?"

"I suspect not," she said ruefully.

"Mirta said you found her- and you were delirious and thought we were still aboard the star destroyer when we first spoke _here_. Which means you went for her _first_, rather than hunt down your brother." She winced at the harsh words and he briefly regretted them, but the feeling passed. "And you sent Fel to retrieve her, knowing that her fate would be questionable if anyone else got to her first."

"I confess," her voice was wry, "that she was not my original goal; I was trying to learn the location of the queen mother's father when a guard inadvertently alerted me to the fact that Mirta was prisoner as well." She shrugged uncomfortably. "I learned how to fight to take him down, and I did. But I wasn't about to abandon my principles to get there."

He studied her a moment. "Was it a choice between the two of them?"

"Why?" she asked quickly and harshly, and he knew he'd struck a nerve.

"Idle curiosity."

She was quiet for a long time. "I've been asking myself that," she finally murmured, distraught. "And I can't answer. The time it would have taken to find Isolder, I probably wouldn't have made it before Caedus killed him. But I've been asking myself 'what if?' ever since. Tenel Ka does not blame me, but…" she trailed away and looked blankly at a nearby wall.

The sat in a comfortable silence, mulling over the others' words. A few minutes later, Fett noticed Jaina's eyes light up and follow someone in the room. He turned slightly; it was Fel. The young man crossed to the table, nodded curtly at Fett, and kissed the girl on top of her head.

"Good to see you up," he said lowly, standing next to Jaina's chair.

She smiled, and Fett fought the urge to roll his eyes at the adoration in her expression. "I'm glad you're back; did you find anything…?"

He shook his head and her face fell. "Master Skywalker still has a team combing the ice-fields, but…"

She sighed. "I want to help look."

"No."

"I have a stronger connection with Zekk than anybody else."

"You're not fully recovered."

"Lost someone?" Fett asked disinterestedly, standing up and wondering if the two realized he was still here.

Jaina tensed. "Yes. My wingmate. A Jedi."

"Hm." Fett said nothing else, just turned and headed towards Mirta's room; they would be leaving in a day or two. He was almost out of the visitor's lounge when he stopped and turned, catching Jaina's eye. "You know the problem with you Jedi?"

Jaina cocked a brow, but Jag seemed to bristle somewhat. "What's that?"

"You always want to save the galaxy and everyone in it; sometimes you can't; sometimes, you have to choose. And you won't always know if you made the right choice, but you'll sleep better knowing you did your best."

And he was gone.

"What the hell was that all about?" Jag looked at her, nonplussed.

Jaina was smiling softly though. "I think he just thanked me for finding Mirta."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

"Where will you go?" Jaina asked Mirta, who sat by her bed, looking small without her armor, but decidedly stronger and more spirited than she had been when she got here. "To Kiffu, with your grandparents?"

Mirta shook her head. "Ghes and I are going to start looking for a planet to relocate. We'll start with another planet in the Mandalore sector- Vorpa'ya, maybe. It'll still be nice for Ghes to be able to visit Mandalore to visit his family- and for them to visit us." Her tone was neutral but Jaina sensed bitterness radiating from her, and she understood. Mirta had spent so much of her adult life traveling, hunting her grandfather… and finally had a home, only to have it ripped out from under her while she was powerless to do anything about it. "We may visit Kiffu eventually though," she added as an afterthought. "Wherever we settle down, we were going to offer Sintas to live with us…"

"What about Boba?" Jaina asked quietly.

The girl shrugged helplessly. "I'm not sure; it might even offend him, for all I know. And I don't know how he and Sintas are getting on lately…"

"They're both here; that's something."

"For me," Mirta looked skeptical. "Not each other." But Jaina sensed a hopeful feeling bubble slightly in Mirta. "Anyway," she shook her head and changed the topic, "what about you, _Jetii_?"

"Back to Coruscant for a while." She gestured down to the bacta chamber which enclosed her torso, a modesty cloth draped around the whole contraption. "At least until I can get this blasted thing off for more than hour or two intervals."

Mirta eyed her sympathetically. "Not very fashionable is it?"

"Hardly; and I bet it would quite the asset if I found myself in a lightsaber duel…"

Two hours later, Jaina convinced the medical droids, her parents, and Jag that she be allowed to see the Mandalorian party off at the lower hangar. Her parents and Jag came, walking a comfortable distance behind the rest, so that they could walk Jaina back up to the infirmary after they departed.

The Mandalorians- Fett, Mirta, and Ghes- were back in their armor, but kept their helmets off out of respect to palace security; only Sintas wore plain clothing, a simple brown flightsuit.

"Take care of her, Ghes," Jaina shook Ghes Orade's hand and smirked at Mirta's narrowing eyes, offended at the implication she needed taking care of. "And you remind him who's boss," she said in a loud aside to Mirta, who grinned and hugged her unlikely friend gently, wary of the still-healing burn welts on her back and the lightsaber wound in her abdomen.

Once they said their fond farewells, Jaina turned to Sintas and hugged her in turn. No words were spoken, but Jaina could sense Sintas's gratitude towards her for finding someone to heal her and for helping return Mirta to them. She smiled and nodded her understanding, and then turned to find Fett.

To her surprise, he was talking to Jag slightly off to the side. The younger man's eyes were marginally wider than usual, which Jaina interpreted as either surprise or alarm. Before she could approach to ask, Fett clasped his shoulder and turned to Han and Leia who were already eyeing him suspiciously.

Their interaction was brief and Jaina was surprised to see her parents' faces light up with slight amusement before Fett turned and walked purposefully towards her.

"Solo," he inclined his head. "I'd give you one of our usual farewells, but Mirta tells me you're retiring from the business for a while."

Jaina shrugged. "Even the _Jetiise_ need a break from saving the galaxy and everyone in it," she said wryly. "Take care of yourself- and Sintas," she added quietly. "And I hope Beviin has some luck with the nanovirus." She didn't tell him that her mother had already made some calls to get some top GA scientists on the case and Tenel Ka was doing the same on Hapes.

Fett shrugged nonchalantly. "I never wanted to be _Mand'alor_ anyway; politics was never my business."

Jaina looked at him seriously for a moment before chuckling. "May the Force be with you, Boba."

Fett never failed to surprise. "And with you- Jaina."

By now, Ghes and Mirta were boarding Ghes's small transport ship; Sintas stood near the ramp of _Slave I_ awaiting Fett. He turned to join her before stopping once more and turning back to Jaina.

"I promised myself I'd tell you someday; seeing you storm the _Bloodfin_, in the dark, with no armor and nothing but a lightsaber and a blaster, stormtroopers firing a storm of blasterbolts… _fierfek_, it was an impressive sight."

Jaina smiled broadly and Fett clasped her shoulder briefly; and then he was gone, striding towards his ship and fastening his helmet.

The Solos and Jag retreated from the hangar as the ships prepared to liftoff. Jaina gave a last wave as they disappeared through the doors, and then they were walking slowly back towards the medical wing, a pair of Tenel Ka's personal guards shadowing their movements from a safe distance.

"What did he say to you?" she asked her parents curiously. Han laughed.

"He looked right at me and said, 'Solo, your daughter turned out alright- I'm sure your wife is entirely to thank for it.' Who would have thought Boba Fett has a sense of humor?"

"I don't think he was joking," Jaina laughed. Jag frowned and Jaina sensed his consternation. "What?" she turned to him, and her parents did the same. "What did he say to you?"

His voice was very serious. "He said that if I break your heart, he'd break my legs."

"Huh," Jaina turned and watched the _Slave I_ take off through the transparisteel viewports. "Maybe that fatherly affection act wasn't that much of an act after all."

Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene. Scene.

**The End**

**A/N**: Hope you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your thoughts. :-)

There's just something about the Boba Fett / Jaina dynamic that cracks me up in _Revelation_ and _Invincible_- I felt a fic was necessary to further explore it.

Thanks for reading!

*~Lexi~*


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